


let me take you down

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, happygocousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 05:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15163520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: Coulson finds her outside.





	let me take you down

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a very late and very tiny #happygocousy fic.  
> Hope you like it!

Coulson finds her outside. 

„Hey,” he says, softly.  
She lights up. “You’ve escaped,” she diagnoses.  
He smiles. “It’s hard to pretend you’re really having a great time.”  
Daisy nods. “Yeah. Wedding or not.”

She makes a generous gesture, like the few steps in front of the porch actually belong to her. He sits down.  
“What a quiet evening.”  
“Outside? Yes. Very,” she agrees, stretches her legs out.

“You haven’t brought a drink with you.”  
He looks apologetic. “Do you want me to get you someth—“  
Daisy giggles. “No. I was going to offer you mine.”  
She hands him her glass. He looks very shy, all of a sudden.  
“I’m serious. We can share it.”

There it is, a little flicker of a smile. It’s probably her imagination, but Coulson might be blushing. Maybe. It’s hard to tell under the colourful garden lights hanging over them.  
“Thank you.” He cautiously takes a sip, then another.  
“You like it? It’s the wedding punch.”  
“Honestly? Not sure. But there are strawberries in it, so, that’s a plus.”  
She smiles, nudges his shoulder a little.

He hands her the glass again, and she takes a sip, too, her lips more or less where his touched the glass. And suddenly, this lovely feeling of companionship he’s had sitting on the steps with her, it melts into this warm _something_ pooling deep down in his stomach somewhere. Daisy’s lips leave a small mark on the rim, a tiny pattern in strawberry colour, and he can’t focus.

They’ve shared water bottles, thermos flasks of coffee, pieces of bread, once even a toothbrush before, but this is different, he’s sure. This is her lips on his. Visibly. The colour of the drink proves it – when she hands him the glass again, her lips are still there on the rim. In pink.

He carefully touches his lips to the mark, then suddenly downs the whole thing, like he needs to stop doing this, like he’s scared of what could happen if they kept taking turns. Briefly, he looks at the rim, and it’s just one pink mark of lips, made by two people. Embarrassed, he puts the glass down, looks at his shoes like they’ve suddenly become very interesting.

“Maybe I should go back in, get another drink –“  
“Wait,” she says, and her voice sounds different, very soft, almost loving, and a little urgent. He slowly looks up, and before he can say anything, her lips are on his. No, really, she’s kissing him, pulling him in by his jacket lapels.  
He’s stunned. When she lets them come up for air, he doesn’t know what to say.  
“You taste like strawberries.”  
It makes her laugh, the kind that really comes from the belly.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is silly, I know. (It's how _Strawberry Fields_ starts.) Don't ask me why I picked it, I don't know. I was thinking about strawberries.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! ♥


End file.
